


Last Christmas

by bccalling



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Christmas fic, Episode: s03e08 A Very Supernatural Christmas, First Time, M/M, Season/Series 03, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 07:37:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9062668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bccalling/pseuds/bccalling
Summary: When Sam gives Dean his last Christmas before his deal comes due, they both realize just how deep their affections for one another run.





	

It’s late Christmas night, and Dean’s still a little bit in awe that Sam gave him one last Christmas. And he’s _definitely_ a little drunk and warm and cozy beside his brother. He feels content in a way he hasn’t in a long time—maybe ever. Over the course of the evening, he’s shifted himself continuously closer to his brother, and now here he is, laid out on the uncomfortable couch with his head cradled in Sam’s lap, and Sam’s fingers playing absently in his hair as they watch the game. He’s happy. Truly happy. And that’s not a feeling Dean’s particularly used to.

He shifts a little, so he’s lying on his back and staring up at Sam who’s lips are tipped up in a genuine smile and Dean smiles back as Sam lowers his eyes to meet Dean’s.

“Hey,” Sam murmurs, fingers massaging Dean’s scalp, “you alright?”

Dean smiles and leans into Sam’s touch. "Yeah,” he tells Sam, genuinely, “I’m happy.”

“I’m glad,” Sam’s tone is sincere, but there’s a touch of sadness behind his eyes, and Dean understands, but he doesn’t want to push, so he lets it be for now.

Sam’s free hand has settled over Dean’s heart, and Dean feels every ounce of affection he’s ever had for his brother bubbling up inside him all at once.

“Hey, Sammy?” Dean questions softly as he reaches up to brush his fingers against Sam’s. “What were you gonna say earlier? Right before you asked if I wanted to watch the game?”

Sam shrugs, avoiding, as his eyes shift back to the TV.

“Please?” Dean asks, genuine and curious with a little caution coloring his tone. “I just—I feel like I need to know.”

Sam takes a deep breath, eyes dropping but not quite returning to meet Dean’s. “I love you,” he whispers, Sam’s voice so soft Dean barely hears, but he does, and tears fill his eyes as he draws a deep breath to control the emotion that overtakes him.

“Sam?” Dean questions, body tense with the overwhelming urge to reach out. Because he feels like there’s more behind it—that it’s more than brotherly—but he doesn’t want to move without confirmation because the last thing he wants to do is to hurt Sam more than he already has.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Sam chokes out, shoving at Dean’s shoulders in desperation as he tries to move away. “I shouldn’t have told you. It’s not—I can go. It’s just—fuck, Dean, I love you so much, and I don’t want to lose you. I’m sorry. I’m _so_ sorry.”

“Hey. _Hey_ ," Dean calls for Sam’s attention, but Sam’s lost, broken, and Dean hates that Sam feels guilty for this because Dean feels it, too. Always has.

When he fails to catch Sam’s attention, he surges up instead, pressing his lips against Sam’s and snaking an arm around Sam’s neck to pull him close.

It’s awkward, the angle, and Sam’s taken by surprise, so he takes a moment to respond, but when he does, it’s good—it’s _so_ good—and Dean’s awed at the intensity of emotion he feels with just a press of lips.

But it’s not long before the shock wears off and Sam kisses back, deepening the kiss in moments as his big hands wrap around to hold Dean closer. Dean scrambles up, shifting his body to press along Sam, straddling his brother’s lap and trying his best to avoid breaking contact as he moves because he has never wanted anything more than this, and he’s afraid if he lets Sam go that Sam might run or stop them, and Dean’s not sure he can handle not having Sam for another moment.

It takes him a bit, but Dean breaks away on a gasp, and works to catch his breath for a moment as Sam’s lips chase a soft little trail across Dean’s jaw and down his neck where Sam stops to nibble gently at Dean’s skin. It hinders Dean’s ability to recover, and Dean lets out a little chuckle at that because he’s amazed at just how fucking intense it is to suddenly have Sammy’s lips on his skin after all these years of wanting.

When he finally pulls himself together, he stops Sam with gentle fingers in his hair and draws Sam’s eyes to his own. “I love you, too, Sammy,” he whispers soft before pressing a short little kiss to Sam’s lips. “I love you, _so much_.”

Sam’s eyes glisten a bit when the admission registers, and he pulls Dean close, tucks his chin into the crook of Dean’s neck and just lets his brother hold him for a moment. It’s beautiful and overwhelming, and Dean feels Sam press the words “Do you mean it?” into Dean’s skin, and he can’t help smiling gently and combing his fingers through Sammy’s hair.

“Yeah, baby. Of course I mean it. Never meant anything more, I swear to you,” Dean promises with a little smile.

Sam chokes out an awed “I love you” then, against Dean’s skin before pulling Dean down for another kiss. Dean can’t get enough of just how tactile Sam is, and he thinks he might live out the rest of his days craving nothing more than his brother’s touch.

“What do you say we move this to the bed, sweetheart? Let me show you how much I mean it, Sammy?” Dean whispers out against Sam’s mouth, and Sam lets out a little whimper of desperation as he catches Dean’s lips again in a harsh kiss.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees, heat coloring his tone, “yeah, Dean, _please_.”

* * *

 When they’re laid out together, Sammy fits perfectly between Dean’s thighs, and Dean regrets nothing but the limited time they have left. His hands roam over Sam’s skin, and he works to memorize every inch of his little brother. He hopes beyond hope that he’ll have more time, more chances to learn Sammy this way, but for now he’ll live in the moment and take whatever Sammy’s willing to offer. And he’s never been happier or felt more complete than he does as Sam pushes inside him for the first time. He doesn’t want to leave this. Doesn’t want to leave Sam. But for now he’ll give what he can and they’ll spend their last months with every part of one another, and for Dean, that feels like enough. He just hopes it’s enough for Sammy.

“Hey?” Dean hears Sam’s voice, soft against his ear as Sam presses gentle kisses to the skin there, his fingers stroking over Dean’s hips. Dean gasps out as Sam pushes deep, and Dean latches his arms around Sam, pulling his little brother tight against his skin, and when Sam pulls back just a bit to catch Dean’s eye there’s a proud little smirk on his lips. Part of Dean wants to hate that, but it just makes him more desperate as he lifts up a bit to kiss the smirk off Sammy’s lips.

When Sam pulls back, he trails soft touches over Dean’s jaw and urges Dean’s eyes up to his. “You with me, big brother? Need you with me if we’re gonna do this, De.”

“I’m here,” Dean promises with lips that turn up in a little smile. “I’m all in, sweetheart. I promise.”

Sam presses close again as they rock together, and Dean keeps his promise to stay in the moment. He thinks, maybe, that he wants to live the rest of his limited days in this moment. His fingers tangle in Sam’s hair and he pulls his brother closer, holds tight as Sam presses into him with shallow little thrusts that keep Dean constantly on the edge of pleasure without quite pushing him over. It’s so good, being so close to the only person he’s ever truly loved. He’d never believed he’d be able to have Sam like this; to love Sam the way he’s always wanted in this way that’s so, so beautiful, intense, complete. And Dean wants it to last forever.

“For as long as we can,” Sam murmurs into his skin, and Dean realizes he’d said that last part aloud, and he blushes a little for letting Sam into those thoughts. But the tinge of embarrassment evaporates quickly because it’s okay for Sam to know; he wants to give Sam every part of himself, even these most intimate thoughts, so he holds Sam close and kisses his hair and a few silent tears might fall from his eyes out of the fear and happiness he’s feeling in these moments. Dean has never felt so alive. Has never loved so deeply or completely. And he hates that he’ll have to leave this behind in a few short months, but he’s grateful that he has Sam now. That they’re able to explore this part of themselves and one another.

So Dean draws Sam close and kisses him deep, and when he pulls back, they stay close, breathing the same air as their hearts sync to beat together, and Sam’s fingers press gently at the amulet Dean still wears around his neck—just enough so Dean feels it’s imprint in his skin—and serves as a soft reminder of everything they are, everything they have been, and everything they might one day be.

And Dean knows in those moments that even though he doesn’t want to die—doesn’t want to go to hell—it doesn’t matter. Because Dean will never regret saving the perfect soul that is his little brother. Will never regret the depth of love and devotion that brought them here.

So he kisses his baby brother again, and pushes his hips up into Sam’s as they move together slowly, savoring the time they have and whispering ‘I love you’s into one another’s skin with gentle fingers and tender promises.


End file.
